


Lucubration

by cherryjam (blueskull)



Series: FFXIV Write 2020 [10]
Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Accidental summoning, Alternate Universe, Books, Bookstores, Eldritch Horrors, F/M, FFxivWrite2020, Fluff, Hyur Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), Mild Horror, Modern AU, Selectively Mute Main Character, but hades is an eldritch...thing i guess, maybe? - Freeform, there is no wol here, written for ffxivwrite2020
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-17
Updated: 2020-09-17
Packaged: 2021-03-07 16:36:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,918
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26510758
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blueskull/pseuds/cherryjam
Summary: The old bookstore catches her eye as she’s on the way home. Mostly because of the…seeming abruptness of its appearance.
Relationships: Solus zos Galvus | Emet-Selch/Warrior of Light
Series: FFXIV Write 2020 [10]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1913422
Kudos: 8





	Lucubration

The old bookstore catches her eye as she’s on the way home. Mostly because of the...seeming abruptness of its appearance.

Arianna loves bookstores; the smell of them, the thrill of peering down the aisles to see rows upon rows of old, beloved, strange books, some with not a single other copy available. She would like to think she knows of every single store in her city...

But she’s never seen this one before.

Looking through the frosted glass, the store within has dark furniture but is well-lit. When she turns the old, rusted-looking handle, the store appears even more worn than she would have ever expected it to be. Dusty book covers, cobwebs in the corners of the ceiling...it’s as if this place had been here for years. Why, then, had she never stumbled upon it before?

The consternation is abandoned in favour of looking around the store. She gives a vague, flighty smile toward the shopkeep at the back -- an elderly, no-nonsense looking gentleman with graying hair and a severe glare through his glasses -- and peruses one of the shelves.

The atmosphere of the shop is dark, but that merely lends the place a homely quality. Arianna can see every spine, every imperfection, every stray dust mote that drifts through the air. That question stirs again at the back of her mind, but she quells it as she looks through the books.

Strangely, none of them seem to garner enough interest to make her want to _buy_ them. Which, she can’t help but think, is a shame. She had so hoped there would be something here to capture her attention...

“Miss?”

A voice calls out to her just as she approaches the door to leave. The hair at the back of her neck stands on end as her fingers tighten on the handle, her face paling even as she turns around. She wants dearly to _leave_ , and yet --

“I have something that might interest you! We just got it in yesterday, actually. A very unusual book.”

The logistics of _how_ he might know any such book he has would interest her are, for the moment at least, thrust aside. Turning, she can see he has some sort of enormous tome on the counter. Her interest is, unfortunately or not, piqued.

She approaches the back of the store, looking down at the large book the shopkeep displays to her. It’s clearly weathered and old, having undoubtedly seen better days. Its pages are dark, its cover darker still. There is neither a name nor an author on its front or its side, and it is a tad too heavy to turn over for simple, casual use.

Spying a small notepad with a pencil on the counter next to the phone, Arianna quickly writes something for the man.

> _What is this?_

“A very special sort of book,” he replies cryptically without missing a beat. He seems utterly unbothered by her odd manner of speech. “You look like the sort of person who could use a little bit of spontaneity in her life.” The smile he gives her is open and beguiling.

Her green eyes narrow somewhat.

> _What do you mean?_

She’s not sure if she’s meant to be touched by his supposed “concern”, or offended.

He gives a mild chuckle, tapping the cover of the book with a long-nailed finger. “It’s just an unusual book, miss. Nothing else quite like it. The author’s unknown, it doesn’t even have a title. I’ve got some of my best investigators on the trail, and no dice. All we know about it is it was found among the possessions of some old house that ended up getting reclaimed. That’s why it was pawned off here, presumably.” His other hand swipes at the polished counter, removing nonexistent dust.

She supposes there is some appeal in owning a book no one else has. But...one of her brows quirk slightly as she looks down at the enormous book.

> _How much is it?_

“Oh, for you?” The man’s grin is wide as he names his price. “And if you don’t like it, you can even return it for your money back. So long as you give it back within seven days, at least.”

That is -- far cheaper than she expected for such a supposedly bizarre book...

The man sighs as she walks out of the store, the tome in a box within the large paper bag she strenuously carries with her. He’d been right that she’s not necessarily an impulsive sort of person.

She is also, he suspects, the sort of person not too many would miss.

________ 

Arianna brushes her dark, curly hair back over her ear as she looks down at the box on her counter. She’d placed it here after coming home, left it while she unpacked her other shopping.

It truly _is_ a heavy thing. She’d almost thought she’d have to go through the horror of having to call someone for help to get everything home.

But for now, all settled, she waits for her water to finish boiling so she might get to _reading_. She already feels that nervous, excited energy that comes whenever she’s about to crack open a new book, her fingers already itching to peel back the cover and unveil the secrets inside.

Not yet, not yet. She needs to control herself.

She exhales slowly.

Oh, that’s right! She can prepare everything else while she waits for the water.

The little table near the window seat groans with effort when she manages to heave the book atop it. She’s almost worried the legs might simply break entirely -- that’s how large and heavy that thing is. All the more to read...she hopes.

Fluffing the pillows and throwing a thin blanket on the seat, she draws the curtains just as the rain clouds begin to roll into view and darken the twilight sky ever further. She doesn’t mind the rain; it might make everything seem even more atmospheric.

Just as the water kettle finishes, she flicks on the small table lamp, before gliding into the kitchen to prepare her tea. The comforting scent of lavender and chamomile washes over her; Arianna cannot help but smile softly as she brings her brew to her favourite seat and arranges herself upon it.

Tucking her legs beneath her long skirt, she pulls the blanket around her and settles herself nicely against the pillows. Then she finally does what she’s been aching to do ever since getting home: she opens the book.

________ 

It’s sort of like a mythology book, though unlike any she’s heard of or knows about. The old, cracked pages are full of drawings of strange, unusual creatures, some more terrifying than others. The text is small and, in some places, almost barely legible from neglect and wear. And even then, the margins are chock full of scribbled notes, tiny doodles, and explanations.

Almost as if whoever had written and drawn them thinks that this is all real.

Even she, for all her fanciful dreaming, knows very well such things don’t exist. Even if the thought would be nice.

Well, for some of them, at least.

Though that is precisely why she enjoys reading so much, to pretend. Maybe these scribbles are to make the book seem more authentic? Just something to make the book more exciting? Had it been artificially aged...?

Between sips of tea, she flips through the pages, her gaze curiously roving the words and (occasionally grotesque) pictures within. That’s when her eyes alight on a curious name...

 _Hades_. Shepherd and devourer of souls.

Arianna has always enjoyed the concept of souls, so with a mild shifting in her seat, she begins to read more carefully. Some sort of ancient fiend with a taste for consuming the life force of mortals, and even other ancient beings...

Her lamp flickers. One dark brow quirks in confusion. She had just changed the light bulb the other day, hadn’t she? So there should be no reason...

Perhaps just an odd glitch of the lamp, or something. She doesn’t really know a lot about lamps, but she guesses that’s possible -- 

With one final sip of her tea, she lets the cup clink satisfyingly against the table as she continues her perusal of the book. It’s then that something brushes against her cheek, light, like a strand of hair. Or a cobweb...?

 _This_ is enough to make her jump slightly, as she brushes self-consciously at her face. Her lips twists indecisively. Curiously, she looks up -- just her dark ceiling.

Despite herself, she’s beginning to feel slightly uneasy. Perhaps the contents of the book are getting to her. She feels uncomfortably as if she’s being _watched_ , though...of course that’s not possible. She’s drawn the curtains, locked the door and windows...there’s no one here.

She suddenly wishes her cup wasn’t empty.

Fidgeting her fingers, she continues to read as if nothing is amiss. It’s just her nerves. Nothing more. If she had another book with her...

But surely nothing wrong could happen from just finishing this one page.

That is everyone’s famous last words, isn’t it?

Because now she’s absolutely _certain_ she hears a _voice_. She cannot make heads or tails of what it’s saying, or even whether it’s male or female...

But it is certainly a _voice_ and and strangely, almost hauntingly silky in tone.

Regardless of the origin, it has Arianna leaping from her seat, tossing the blanket aside unceremoniously as she flicks the rest of the lights on. Heart nervously fluttering in her chest, she makes a desperate round of her entire apartment.

The voice is gone, and...there is no one there.

Her...imagination...?

Yes, it must be. There is no other explanation. With a nervous, shaky exhale, she settles back at her spot in the window seat and forces herself to relax. She has always thought too much; perhaps this is why this strange old book is so...unknown. Because it makes one think too much about...odd things.

She closes the tome.

And suddenly she feels very, inexplicably exhausted. Sighing, she reclines, tilting her head to rest against the window behind her --

And sees a red mask gleaming down at her, most definitely _not_ a part of her curtains.

There’s a moment where she blinks, and the mass against her window blinks back.

Arianna nearly chokes on air as she shoots from the chair, stumbling backwards as she turns to look fearfully upon whatever it was was behind her. And -- it’s -- _enormous_. Black masses with innumerable faces, and gleaming white hands with gold claws --

She has not the slightest idea where to look, nor what she is even looking _at_. Dimly at the back of her mind, she has some vague realisation that she’s seen something similar before...in that book.

Hand at her throat, she backs into the kitchen counter behind her and fumbles for the fruit stand, discarding its cargo to brandish it in front of her. Is she...hallucinating -- ?

Though she sees no mouth, the voice from earlier returns -- but far louder, and this time most certainly masculine. But just like before, this voice is entirely incomprehensible. In fact, it hurts her ears a little to listen to it -- 

Her heart thundering in her chest, one of her hands lets go of her makeshift weapon to press against her temple in a grimace. The voice stops, followed by what is unmistakably a sigh.

“You didn’t understand an inkling of that, did you...?”

**Author's Note:**

> Full long fic sequel coming soon. 
> 
> Has an [optional NSFW fic](https://archiveofourown.org/works/27242698) that takes place some time in the middle of it.
> 
> [Halloween fic](https://archiveofourown.org/works/27298144).
> 
> [Fluff fic](https://archiveofourown.org/works/27395290).


End file.
